Chapter 48: Doom

"For the grand plan—for eternal life!"

The Dragon Pillar councilors raised their goblets of blood-red wine high, faces alight with excitement, and downed the contents in one swift motion.

Then, with a crash, crystal goblets were hurled to the ground, shattering across the banquet hall as the sound echoed through the vast chamber.

Pan gave a slight nod to the group, then took the lead, striding toward the metal hall prepared for ascension.

Aegon and the fourteen Dragon Pillars followed closely behind.

As they walked through the exhibit hall carved into the cavern, the head of House Aurélion gave a bitter smile.

"With the Freehold closed off these past few years, our hard-won colonies—like Slaver's Bay, the Free Cities, the Rhoyne basin, and Andalos—have all begun hesitating and delaying the tributes ordered by the Council. But at least... we've finally made it to the end."

The head of House Ylanis nodded in agreement, a trace of weariness on his face.

"And things aren't exactly stable at home, either. The slaves, driven mad by divine influence, are working themselves to death... but the gods' oracles are telling them to dig Valyria's grave.

Many Valyrian citizens have become openly hostile toward the churches of the gods. The tension is at a breaking point.

Even some of the dragonriders are disgruntled, resentful about being confined to the Valyrian Peninsula. They're not exactly swayed by the Council's promises of extended life..."

House Aurélion had been responsible for foreign affairs, House Ylanis for domestic matters—both had clearly borne immense pressure in recent years.

Then the head of House Edderion suddenly spoke up, his voice trembling slightly as he turned to Pan.

"Elder... can the grand plan really succeed? Have you had any new Dragon Dreams lately?

I don't mean to question the plan. I just... I just want to be sure."

The group froze at once. Every eye turned to Pan's crimson robes.

Aegon also paused, then muttered under his breath, "Pan... is a Dragon Dreamer too?"

A memory flashed through his mind—Aenar's treasured dragonbone dagger. When Aenar had received his eldest son Rhaegar, he mentioned the dagger had been gifted by an elder. At the time, Aegon had been surprised to learn that was how the Targaryens had acquired such a relic...

Now, a chill swept through him. Could the prophecy engraved on Aenar's dagger be true? Would the prophesied prince—or princess—really appear and fulfill the so-called Song of Ice and Fire?

Beside him, the head of House Aurélion leaned closer, covering his mouth and whispering, "Pan was the first Dragon Dreamer. He foresaw the rise of our bloodline... and this grand plan."

Aegon, startled, kept his voice low as he asked, "Did he foresee the Doom?"

The head of House Aurélion acted as if he hadn't heard, covering his mouth with a cough.

Pan had turned to glance back at them. His wrinkled face shifted slightly, and his violet eyes landed on Aegon—piercing, as if weighing and measuring him.

The gaze made Aegon's heart race.

Is he warning me?

Pan's expression hardened, his voice ringing out firm and clear.

"There is no Doom. The grand plan will succeed. The prophecy's outcome remains unchanged."

Then, without hesitation, he turned back and resumed his steady march, leading the Dragon Pillars forward like a shepherd guiding his flock.

Aegon frowned.

He didn't believe him.

A question stirred in his mind.

Why would Pan lie?

If he had truly foreseen the Doom of Valyria, why push ahead with the grand plan? Unless... unless the consequences of not acting were even more catastrophic than Valyria's destruction.

Aegon recalled a conversation with Daenys. Dragon Dreamers like her, when faced with a disaster they foresaw, would try to prevent it. And if it couldn't be stopped, they would take the path of least sacrifice.

So what could possibly be worse than the fall of Valyria?

Human extinction?

The end of the world?

Aegon didn't know—but he was nearly certain that whatever it was, it involved the gods... or the entities from beyond the stars. Only those two forces held such overwhelming power.

In that vast, majestic hall—shadowed with an eerie gloom—Pan walked on ahead like a leader marching his people toward the edge of annihilation, with the Dragonlord Council and the people of Valyria trailing close behind.

...

Half an hour later, the group finally reached the metal hall.

At Pan's instruction, the fourteen Dragon Pillars and Aegon each took their designated seats. The chairs were covered in intricate metal tubing, twisting like mysterious metallic vines.

A faint mechanical hum rose in the air.

Suddenly, with a sharp click, metal clasps hidden in the armrests snapped shut, locking tightly around their wrists. Thick metal arms extended from the backrests, wrapping around their torsos—coiling tighter and tighter. Beneath their seats, heavy metal plates slowly rose, clamping firmly around their legs and securing them in place.

The Dragon Pillars' expressions turned uneasy, their bodies shifting restlessly in their restraints.

Pan raised a calming hand and spoke with practiced ease.

"These restraints are only to prevent you from thrashing during the ascension process. Any sudden movement could interrupt the transmission of the immortal substance. After all, ascension is not a pleasant experience... but I trust you've all prepared yourselves for this."

Hearing his reassurance, the Dragon Pillars slowly stopped struggling. The tension in the hall began to ease.

Seeing that everyone had calmed down, Pan stepped up beside Aegon and addressed the group.

"Everyone, I will become the core of the Source Alchemy Array and oversee its activation and operation. My life force has been completely exhausted—I can no longer absorb immortal matter.

So, under the array's effects, my soul will transform into a ghost-like lifeform, granting me a different form of rebirth.

This, for all of us, is a win-win."

The head of House Edderion smiled with anticipation.

"Elder, please begin—I can't wait any longer."

The other Dragon Pillars echoed the sentiment.

"Begin it! Let us be reborn with the Elder!"

Pan gave a faint smile, slowly pressed both hands downward, and then rose steadily toward the dome of the metal hall.

Aegon, like the others, looked up. This was the first time he had seen such an expression on Pan's face. Until now, Pan had always seemed more like a cold, emotionless machine.

A massive, pure-white crystal orb was embedded in the dome above. As Pan's crimson figure touched the crystal, his form instantly melted into a pool of liquid red, slowly seeping into the sphere. In moments, the entire crystal turned blood-red, like an eye soaked in fresh blood.

Pan's voice resonated from all corners of the hall, echoing through the vast chamber.

"The first phase of the Source Alchemy Array will trigger a massive explosion. All Dragonblood from the Valyrians will be extracted and drawn into the Fourteen Flames.

This metal hall is the only safe place on the Valyrian Peninsula. Once the first phase is complete, the Dragonblood will be guided by the array's magic to the base of Bloodsource Peak, where it will enter the Pureblood Dragon Formation built from King-tier Dragons—then, the true second phase of ascension will begin."

As Pan spoke, his overlapping voices sounded almost otherworldly. The metal hall began to glow red. Bloodmage runes flared to life, branching out across the walls like veins on leaves, pulsing with an eerie crimson light.

A low hum filled the hall—soft at first, but steadily growing louder. Energy pulsed through the structure as the entire chamber began to tremble.

Pan's face became visible again within the red-lit crystal embedded in the dome.

"In the second phase, the Pureblood Dragon Formation will activate. It will draw out the Dragonlord's bestial essence and purify it using human Dragonblood. Once divinity is restored, it will be transported up from the abyss—that's when true ascension begins..."

As his final words rang out, Aegon felt the tremors intensify rapidly. His body shook violently in sync with the hall. The unpadded metal seat beneath him made every jolt unbearable—he felt like he was going to be rattled apart.

The entire spherical metal chamber was slowly lifted by mechanical gears and began to slide along a massive overhead rail, moving steadily toward the center of the abyss.

...

As the hall left its position, the adjacent exhibition cavern began to collapse.

Tens of thousands of crystal vessels shattered from the tremors, ringing out in sharp cracks. Dragon-beast specimens that had been preserved for millennia were suddenly exposed to open air. Separated from the yellow, unknown preservation liquid, they began to rot and decay rapidly, releasing a pungent, foul stench that spread through the collapsing chamber.

But deeper inside, the giant specimens—those over fifty meters tall—did not decay at once.

Instead, they stirred.

As if roused from an ancient slumber, they began to slowly open their beastly, dragon-like eyes. Confusion flickered in their gazes as they scanned their surroundings. Their skin, wrinkled from millennia of immersion, began to smooth out slightly—as if in a final resurgence of life.

"Pan! Why did you wake me early!?"

A hundred-meter-long dragon-beast with massive wings let out a guttural roar in human speech, its voice echoing across the cave.

"What's going on?"

The other dragon-beasts, dozens of meters long, awakened one after another, equally bewildered.

"Has the bloodline faced extinction? Why awaken us now...?"

"Why didn't any kin preserve us? Without the immortal preservative blood, we'll wither away the moment we're exposed!"

The dragon-winged creatures roared with fury, their voices shaking the cavern.

Then—a thunderous crash.

A massive stalactite from the cave's ceiling plunged down, striking one of the dragon-beasts squarely on the head. In the next instant, the entire ceiling began to collapse.

Rocks and boulders as large as buildings fell like an avalanche. Within moments, they buried the newly awakened dragon-beasts beneath tons of stone. Agonized wails echoed briefly—then fell silent as the creatures were crushed and entombed deep underground.

Still, one dragon-beast roared defiantly as it died.

"I won't accept this—I don't want to die!"

Boom!

The entire cavern collapsed completely, wiping away every trace of the Bloodmage's remaining experiments.

...

Suspended in the center of the abyss, the massive metal sphere continued its slow descent along the rail. Eventually, it came to rest in a large recess at the top of a towering steel spire.

With a heavy metallic click, the sphere locked into place, linking perfectly with the pipes from the Pureblood Dragon Formation below.

Then, the top of the sphere began to open, petal by petal, like a steel flower blooming.

Pan's blood-red crystal core floated free from its cradle, rising gently into the air. Streams of crimson energy flowed from it—thin and agile like silk threads—linking to the tips of each metal petal.

As the exhibition cavern collapsed behind them, the cliffs surrounding the abyss also began to break apart. Countless rocks tumbled downward in a storm of destruction.

Some stray stones veered toward the blooming metal platform—but each one was repelled by Pan's powerful magical barrier.

Still, the impact was enough to cause the towering metal spire beneath them to sway violently.

Aegon looked up at Pan, concerned.

"Can the tower beneath this platform withstand the impact?"

The platform rocked so fiercely, he felt as though he were atop a skyscraper during a magnitude seven earthquake.

Pan's tone remained calm.

"Don't worry. The core of the Source Alchemy Array is made entirely of Valyrian steel. The Freehold's entire stockpile—centuries of accumulation—is concentrated here."

Aegon's eyes widened in shock.

The collapse of the abyss showed no signs of stopping. Here and there, he saw buildings—black stone towers from the floating cities—and even the massive corpses of King-tier Dragons, all plunging into the depths below.

He looked up toward the immense opening at the top of the abyss and felt a strange sense of insignificance.

Like a frog trapped at the bottom of a well.

Above him, the round sky was darkened by thick black smoke. Ash fell like snow, blanketing the sky in a suffocating curtain.

If one were to lift their gaze from the metal platform and continue rising...

They would see the rune-carved ravines across the Valyrian Mountains gradually filling with surging red magic. The source of this power came from Pan and the hundreds of god-temples scattered across the Valyrian Peninsula. Deep within the ravines, veins of Dragonglass conducted the flow of energy, providing a constant and unrelenting stream of support.

All the mountains within a five-hundred-mile radius of Valyria began to tremble violently at the same moment. It was as if a chain of volcanoes had erupted all at once—blazing black smoke and scorching flames spewed into the sky, churning with rolling ash, thick smoke, and relentless fire. The skies above twisted into a maelstrom of chaos, black smoke and fire swirling like mad spirits in a death-dance.

Fused into these flames was the overwhelming absorption magic of the Source Alchemy Array. The smoke and fire, like the tendrils of some malevolent demon, reached out and ensnared every living being on the Valyrian Peninsula. Within seconds of contact, countless Valyrians were reduced to nothing but blackened ash—life itself rendered utterly powerless before this monstrous force.

Tallasya stared in despair at the apocalyptic spectacle above. Only now did she realize the truth—she had been deceived by Pan and the Dragonlord Council.

In a panic, she spurred her King-tier Dragon upward, desperate to escape this hellish domain. But the raging, suffocating smoke had already formed a solid, impenetrable ceiling, sealing off the entire Valyrian sky.

Across the peninsula, thousands of dragonriders reacted just as Tallasya had. They too fought to flee from death's grip, but the all-consuming smoke and fire incinerated their dragons mid-flight, one by one.

Desiccated dragon corpses fell from the sky like shooting stars—countless, horrifying, and grotesque.

Even the thousands of wild, untamed dragons scattered across Valyria were nearly wiped out in the same instant, swallowed by the inferno.

The smoke and fire behaved like an insatiable demon, devouring all life in its path. It swept across the land without mercy, extinguishing every spark of vitality from the once-flourishing Valyrian Peninsula and reducing it to a lifeless ruin.

Tens of millions of people perished in an instant, their true dragon blood forcibly extracted by the array.

It all happened too fast. No time to react. No time to run. No chance to survive. Just moments before, the Valyrians had been celebrating, reveling in pleasure and power—and the next, they were gone. Obliterated in smoke and flame. The cruelty of fate could not have been more brutal.

The inland lakes boiled away under the searing heat, or turned into steaming, acidic pools that reeked of death. Trees in the deep forests withered within seconds, leaving behind nothing but barren silence where once lush green canopies had stood.

Billions of beasts perished in the catastrophe. Their final cries lingered in the air, only to be drowned out by the roaring blaze.

The Source Alchemy Array continued to erupt. When the veins of Dragonglass buried deep in the mines were fully activated, the land itself began to rupture violently, cracking apart like the end of the world had come.

The ground, torn open by the array, split into vast maws—bloody, jagged chasms that swallowed Valyria's proud palaces, cities, and settlements whole. Entire structures collapsed in an instant, vanishing into the abyss below.

But from some of the fissures flowed not lava—but strange, pulsing purple blood. And in their wake, glistening, severed tendrils were blown up from the depths by explosive surges of Dragonglass.

At some unknown point, the flesh of the Star Gods had already begun to spread beyond the sinkhole.

At the energy nodes of the Source Alchemy Array—where the temples of the gods stood tall—brilliant bursts of divine light erupted the moment the Star God's blood surfaced. The gods' radiance reached downward, greedily drawing in the violet ichor, as if fighting to seize control of this unfathomable, potent source of power.

...

At the bottom of the abyss—where Aegon and the Dragon Pillars were stationed—a furious, earth-shaking roar suddenly erupted, one that seemed to embody boundless wrath and unimaginable terror.

"This... is that a Star God?" Aegon's heart pounded wildly under the weight of the roar's overwhelming force.

The sound resembled a dragon's bellow, but it was a hundredfold more savage. The sheer fury in it struck Pan's red, translucent barrier with such violence that ripples surged across its surface, as though it might shatter like brittle glass at any moment.

Pan clenched his will, straining to keep the shield intact.

Meanwhile, the smoke and flame that had devoured all life in Valyria surged along the runic trenches like a crimson tide, flooding toward the sinkhole abyss. Without hesitation, it funneled into the Valyrian steel pipelines stretching out from the depths.

"Dragonblood has returned. Gods—receive my grand offering," Pan's blood-hued visage cackled with manic glee.

He began to overdrive the array.

The sudden surge of magic pushed far beyond what Dragonglass could withstand. In an instant of frantic acceleration, the entire Source Alchemy Array detonated. Part of Valyria's crust ruptured in a catastrophic blast. Molten magma from the planet's core erupted like an enraged beast, unleashing a second, even more violent wave of destruction—an apocalyptic chain reaction that continued to spew with unstoppable fury.

Hundreds of god-temples, constructed at the array's key energy nodes, were the first to be annihilated.

Some were shattered outright by the erupting magma. Others, sturdier but no less doomed, were hurled skyward in molten blasts—reduced to grotesque, flaming fragments that rained back down in surreal destruction.

The already shattered land gave way completely. Cracks widened into massive, bottomless chasms, swallowing entire portions of the Valyrian Peninsula. Massive swaths of earth began to sink.

Torrents of seawater surged inward like a dam broken beyond repair, flooding the sunken lands and submerging them.

The explosion fractured the terrain around Valyria into countless fragmented islands, wiping out the continent's former geography in a single, brutal stroke.

Even the Lands of the Long Summer, located on the fringe of the Freehold, were not spared.

Towns and villages were buried under volcanic ash cast off from the eruption. Although the magical flames from the Source Alchemy Array never reached them, the fallout—lava, ash, and shock—turned the land into a scorched disaster zone.

Worse still, a colossal shockwave triggered by the rupturing earth swept outwards. Tsunamis rose behind it like rampaging beasts, crashing toward the Long Summer lands with merciless force.

Boom...

Following in the wake of the shockwaves and tidal surges came an endless series of thunderous detonations, expanding outward from the Valyrian Peninsula, as if the very world itself were being shaken apart.

Hurricane winds howled across the scarred landscape, bringing with them devastation beyond imagination. Everything in their path—cities, forests, people—was devoured in the screaming gale.

Homes crumbled like dominoes under the combined assault of earthquakes and natural calamities. Across the ruins, countless voices cried out in agony. Once-thriving cities were reduced to piles of rubble—broken walls, shattered stone, and the bitter taste of despair. It was a vision of hell on earth.

Above the skies of Valyria, thick clouds turned pitch-black, stained by smoke and ash. The sky became a vast black curtain, heavy and suffocating.

Within that darkness, lightning exploded in flashes of white-silver, like vicious serpents thrashing through the clouds.

Thunder crashed in wave after wave, each one louder than the last, rolling through the heavens like the furious howls of vengeful gods. Color drained from the world. Creation trembled.

...

At the core of the Fourteen Flames, deep in the abyss beneath the sinkhole, the massive metal platform trembled.

Pan had begun the second phase of the grand plan.

Now, the Dragonblood of countless Valyrians surged like a raging flood, converging into the Pureblood Dragon Formation at the bottom of the abyss.

The divine blood of the Star Gods was slowly extracted, then injected into the colossal bodies of the fifteen Dragonlords. From there, it flowed through Valyrian steel tubes implanted in their hearts, pumping upward—straight into the bodies of the Dragon Pillars above.

As golden immortal matter continued its ascent, something unnatural began to happen.

Scarlet organic flesh and sinew began to grow across the outer wall of the Valyrian steel tower. The mysterious, deathless substance seemed to spark spontaneous vitality, and blood-red muscle fibers began spreading like vines. Within moments, the steel tower was completely engulfed—transformed into a massive, grotesque pillar of flesh and blood.

Aegon watched in horror as the platform was swallowed by a living carpet of tissue.

Then, the tubes embedded in each metal seat activated.

Golden-red liquid surged through the conduits like a tidal wave, flooding into the bodies of the fifteen Dragon Pillars. In the very instant the fluid entered his veins, Aegon felt agony unlike anything he had known.

The pain ignited his nerves like fire. He could feel his body being forcibly transformed—each cell torn apart and reformed again, over and over, endlessly. The torment was blinding.

Seconds passed like eternities.

Then—one of them broke.

The first to fail was the head of House Edderion.

Without warning, his eyeballs bulged grotesquely, then slowly sprouted into long, slender tentacles. Crawling out of their sockets like newly birthed creatures, the tentacles dangled bloody nerves behind them, which they promptly tore from the remnants of his flesh.

His ears rapidly swelled and sprouted fleshy wings, then tore free of his skull, flapping madly in the air and releasing a piercing, shrill screech.

His teeth sharpened into fangs, then burst from his gums, transforming into white, insect-like creatures that crawled out of his mouth and scattered into the air.

His muscles twitched and writhed, each strand coming alive—twisting and morphing into squirming worms, slithering across his now-unrecognizable form.

Aegon stared, frozen in horror. The grotesque transformation sent chills racing down his spine, every hair on his body standing on end.

"What the hell is happening to him!? Damn it!" Aegon shouted, voice cracking as he turned to Pan in panic.

Pan merely shook his head, expression cold and emotionless.

"His dragon was too weak. The beastly essence couldn't be purified. But once he dies, his remains will condense into Bloodsource Crystals—exactly what I need.

I have no physical body anymore. I don't need to fear the interference of animalistic reawakening..."